


Who Are You?

by The_Infamous_Jack



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bisexual Remus Lupin, Canon Compliant, FTM Remus Lupin, Gay Sirius Black, Gender Dysphoria, Marauders Era (Harry Potter), Marauders Friendship (Harry Potter), Remus Lupin & Lily Evans Potter Friendship, Trans Male Character, Trans Remus Lupin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-13 16:27:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29031663
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Infamous_Jack/pseuds/The_Infamous_Jack
Summary: Remus Lupin has more than one secret. And there’s no way of knowing who he can trust. All he has are his parents, but they can’t protect him when he goes off to Hogwarts.But then Remus meets a boy and his two other friends, and soon realises that some secrets can’t be kept forever.(Canon compliant)Disclaimer: I do not condone or support JK Rowling’s harmful and transphobic views.
Relationships: James Potter/Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Black/Remus Lupin
Comments: 37
Kudos: 49





	1. Boy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dev_crystal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dev_crystal/gifts).



> My first Marauders Era fic! I’ve been thinking about it on and off for a while, but I finally found the motivation to write it (and boy have I been motivated!). Remus being ftm trans is one of my favourite headcanons, so I’m excited to publish this. I’ve researched/will be researching as much as I can, as well as using my own experiences with dysphoria, but if any ftm trans people would like to suggest anything in the replies then by all means, please do! Or if you want to message me directly my Instagram handle is the same as my AO3 handle. This fic is ongoing so there’s always room for me to add things in.
> 
> Special thanks to my friend Dev. They encouraged me to write this because they’re trash for Remus Lupin. Don’t hate me, Dev, I am also trash for Remus Lupin.

Remus always knew that he was different. Not because he was a werewolf, though that certainly didn't help. It was before that. By the time he could walk and talk it was clear to his parents that he was different.

At first they thought they were just dealing with a tomboy. When Remus was three he had taken some scissors and cut his hair short as carefully as he could. His parents thought that it had been a mistake. That he'd been playing a game and went a bit too far. He was only three after all. But Remus was deadly serious. He refused to let it grow long. When it did, he cut it straight off again. His parents could do nothing about it. So eventually they gave in and cut it for him.

Dresses and skirts were another struggle, and Remus refused to wear female robes. If he was made to wear anything other than male-looking outfits he'd kick up a fuss, and cry and shout. Once again his parents gave in.

But it was when he started to ask them to refer to him as a boy that they got worried. He was nearly five when this started. Every time they referred to him as a "she", or a girl, or as their daughter, he'd immediately contradict them.

"No, mummy. He." "Boy, mummy. I'm a boy." "Son, not daughter." He was too young to hide it. He didn't realise that other people didn't feel like he did, so his parents had to protect him.

His dad tried to talk to him, to discourage him, to convince him otherwise.

"Sweetheart, you do know that you're a girl don't you?" His dad asked him one day. Remus looked at him with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

"No I'm not. I'm a boy."

"No, you were born a girl. You like to dress like a boy, and that's okay. Your mother and I are okay with that. But you can't keep saying that you _are_ a boy."

"Why not?"

"Well, for starters, you're making us sad." Remus's face dropped.

"I am?" He didn't want to make his parents sad.

"Yes. We miss our daughter."

* * *

The conversation left Remus feeling more conflicted than he'd ever felt before. He lay on his bed, late at night, crying silently into his pillow.

His parents were sad because of him? Even his mother? So far she had been supportive. She used he instead of she and called him her boy. It made him so happy. She said she loved him no matter what. Had that all been a lie? Had she been sad this whole time? But he didn't want to pretend to be a girl. That would make _him_ sad.

His mother must have heard him. Or maybe she'd been coming to check on him anyway.

"Dahlia? What's wrong?" She asked, rather alarmed as she opened his bedroom door and saw him curled up, awake, and clearly upset. She didn't know about the conversation. Remus didn't reply right away. She sat beside him on his bed and ran her hands through his short, wavy hair. It was comforting.

"Mummy, are you sad?" He asked, looking at her with glistening eyes. She looked slightly taken aback.

"Of course not. Why would I be sad?"

“Dad said you and him were sad because I keep saying I’m a boy.”

"When did he tell you that?"

"Today." The room was quiet for a while. His mother must have been thinking.

"Don't listen to what he says. I promise I'm not sad. How can I be sad when I've got such a great kid, eh?" She added, tickling him playfully. He giggled. "You just keep doing what you want to do. Don't worry about your father. I'll talk to him." Remus nodded, and his mum bent down to kiss his forehead. "Goodnight." She breathed as she walked out, shutting his bedroom door lightly behind her. Remus felt lighter. Happier. His mum wasn't sad. She still loved him. He went to sleep feeling content.

* * *

Remus awoke to sounds of arguing. He opened his eyes, dreams still lingering around him, and took a second to register what he was hearing: loud voices filtering up through the floorboards. He tiptoed out onto the landing in his pyjamas and sat on the top step of the staircase, peering through the banister. The voices were coming from the kitchen.

"I'm trying to protect her!" he heard his dad shout. "Unlike you I'm not living in some fantasy world where this type of thing is accepted!"

"You're a bloody wizard, you're entire existence is fantasy! This is reality, and the reality is we have a son!"

"No, the reality is we have a daughter who thinks she's a boy, and you won't stop indulging her!"

"I'm supporting him!"

"You call this support?! Have you thought about her future? When she goes off to Hogwarts, have you thought about what the kids'll say to her if she's still going through this bloody phase because you allowed it?!"

"If he's still like this by the time he's eleven I think we'll have to assume it's not a phase!"

Remus didn't want to hear any more. He put his hands over his ears and ran back into his bedroom. He didn't want his parents to argue. He wanted them to be happy. They were arguing because of him. They'd be happy again if he could just be normal.

He dug around in his wardrobe. He had an aunt on his mother's side who had gifted him a muggle dress for Christmas. He'd hated it of course, but his father refused to let him throw it away. His mother had suggested they could re-gift it, or give it away to charity. She didn't want to throw it away either but she knew he'd never wear it. His father, however, was stubborn, and said that it was disrespectful not to keep it. So Remus had shoved it to the back of his wardrobe and hadn't looked at it since. Until now.

He dragged it out and and stared at it. It was a bit wrinkled but that didn't matter. It wasn't a showy dress, just a normal, everyday dress. It was dark blue with white love hearts on the hem. Remus put it on and looked in the mirror. He hated what he saw. He felt so uncomfortable and wanted nothing more than to take it off and put his trousers back on. But his parents were still arguing and this was the only way to stop them.

"He's not even five years old and his self-esteem is rock bottom because of you!"

"Oh he this and he that, I'm not the problem here!"

"You're saying I am?!"

"Well you're certainly not helping!” Hope didn’t reply. She was staring just beyond Lyall’s shoulder.

"Dahlia?" Remus's father turned in the direction of his wife's gaze. Remus was standing in the doorway, dress-clad with a tear-streaked face. He wiped his eyes on the back of his arm.

"You don't have to argue," Remus began. "I'll be a girl again." His mother went to his side and bent down.

"Sweetheart, you don't have to do this. We won't argue again, it's okay-"

"Hope..." His father looked at her sternly. "I told you to stop indulging her. Can't you see that this is a good thing?" His mother closed her eyes and tried to keep her voice level and calm.

"Can't you see that he's only doing this for our benefit? To stop us from arguing?"

"If that's what it takes to get her out of this phase then so be it." Hope stared intensely at her husband, but said nothing. She simply stood up and ushered Remus out of the kitchen.

"I'm going to work!" Lyall called roughly after them.

* * *

Hope helped Remus out of his dress and back into his trousers. He stood once again at the mirror. Usually he liked standing at the mirror with just his trousers on. Because with his short hair and flat chest he looked just like every other boy. But right now, as he stared into the mirror, all he felt was guilty. And angry. Angry at himself. Angry at what he was doing to his parents.

Hope took his hand and sat him on his bed. She got onto her knees so she was eye-level with him.

"Do you really want to be a girl again?" She asked. Remus nodded. "You're not just saying that because you think it's what your father and I want to hear, are you?" Remus didn't reply. So she continued. "I'm sorry about your father, but I promise he loves you. He loves you so much that he can't help but worry. And when people are scared they lash out."

"Why is he scared?"

"Because... because he wants you to have a normal life. And I want that as well. But we have different ideas on how to go about it, so we're clashing at the moment. But it's down to us, not you. Nothing is your fault, darling, and you don't have to try and fix anything." Remus was quiet. Thinking. He was still conflicted.

"But dad doesn't like me being a boy. If I say I am he gets angry. I don't want him to be angry. So I have to be a girl again."

"I don't want you to have to do that. It's not fair."

"Then I'll be a boy with you, and a girl with dad."

"What do you mean?"

"You can still call me a boy, but not when dad's around." Hope was reluctant, but she knew Remus could be as stubborn as his father sometimes. And as much as she hated to admit it, she was sort of relieved. She wanted Lyall to be happy again. For her son's sake. Remus couldn't live in such an environment, where everything was tense and arguing. But at the same time... at what cost?


	2. Bitten

Lyall was pleased. He had his daughter back. Hope had started to say “she” again, and she’d even taken Dahlia shopping- at Dahlia’s request- for some girl robes and outfits. Dahlia still refused to grow out her hair, but she paraded around the living room in her new clothes, to the smiles and encouragement of her father. He knew he had been right. Dahlia was clearly happy. It had all been a phase after all.

Remus had begun to resent his father. Unwillingly of course, but it got to the point where he just wanted his father out of the house. Because when his father was out of the house, Remus could be himself. He could wear his boy clothes, and his mother would call him “he” again. He was her boy again. And he was happy. When his father was there, he wasn’t happy.

But he never let on to either of his parents how he felt. His mother would worry and tell him to go back to normal and not worry about his father. His father would get angry and blame both of them. Remus just didn’t want any arguing. So his parents continued to believe that everything was okay.

And then came that fateful night.

His parents awoke to screaming. The silence of the night was being pierced by a child’s screams of bloody murder. They didn’t have time to think, they just ran. Ran down the landing and into their son’s bedroom.

A man was crouched over the figure of their child, his head bent over Remus’s neck. Remus was frozen with terror. Hope screamed, alerting the man, and Lyall wasted no time in fending the intruder off with a rapid series of hexes and jinxes. The man managed to escape out of the window, just missing getting hit by a jet of red light before he disappeared off into the night.

“Lyall, he’s hurt, oh god he’s hurt!” Lyall stared at the child. Remus was being cradled in Hope’s arms, barely conscious. His face had been scratched right across and the left hand side of the bed was soaked in blood. Remus’s shoulder was bleeding profusely. “Lyall he has to go to hospital, we have to take him to hospital!” She was sobbing hysterically. Lyall had rushed to her and was now bending over Remus’s shoulder, wand in hand.

“We can’t,” he breathed. Hope stared at him in shocked confusion.

“What do you mean we can’t!? He needs help!”

“I’m helping him! I can fix his wound with magic, he’ll be fine.”

“He’s been attacked, he _needs_ a doctor.” Lyall didn’t look up. He was frantically casting spell after spell to stop the bleeding and close up the wound.

“We just can’t,” he reiterated. “It’s not a normal attack he... it’s not a normal wound.”

“What do you mean it’s not a normal wound!? Who was that man!? What did he do to him!?”

Remus started to gain consciousness again, cutting off his mother’s questions. First he started to whimper, then he began to cry. His mother held him close, whispering comforting words in his ear.

“It’s okay, sweetheart, you’re safe now. You’re going to be fine.”

* * *

Hope interrogated her husband once they were out of Remus’s bedroom and in their living room.

It had been an hour now since the attack. They had stayed with Remus until he had fallen back to sleep, making sure he was okay, bandaging up his wounds and locking his window tightly. It took a while for him to fall asleep again, terrified as he was of the intruder and traumatised from what had just happened to him. But he was only young, and by around two in the morning he simply couldn’t keep his eyes open anymore. The whole event had left him exhausted.

Once he was safely asleep, his parents had then gone round the whole house ensuring that every single entrance and opening was sealed tight. They had planned to stay in his room all night, but Hope needed answers and she didn’t want to risk waking Remus up again. He needed to rest.

Lyall sank into his favourite armchair and Hope stood over him.

“You better explain to me what the hell has just happened,” she demanded in a dangerously low voice. “I need to know why my child was nearly _killed_ and is now quite possibly scarred for life, physically _and_ mentally.” Her voice wobbled but she continued to glare at her husband. “And I need to know why you _refused_ to take him to a hospital.” Lyall rubbed his hands together anxiously, not knowing how to tell his wife what had happened. He took a deep breath.

“That was... .” He hesitated. “Dahlia was bitten.”

“ _Bitten!_? By who?!”

“Fenrir Greyback. He... he was accused of murdering those children I told you about. Werewolf attacks-" he saw his wife tense up. “He claimed he didn’t know anything, disguised himself as a homeless person. Everyone believed him... except me.” He was now staring angrily at the ground, his jaw clenched.

“Please don’t tell me I’m hearing this. Please tell me our child hasn’t been...” Hope had to sit down. She couldn’t quite take in what had happened, she _refused_ to believe what had happened.

“I _said_ he was a werewolf but everyone just laughed at me. And I got angry and... and... .” He exhaled shakily and put his head in his hands. “Oh Merlin this is all my fault.” The room was a deafening silence. The enormity of the night’s events had yet to hit them fully, but deep down they were all too well aware that their future and their child’s future had just been irreversibly changed in a matter of seconds. And there was nothing they could do about it.

“What did you do?” Asked Hope, her voice deadpanned. Lyall didn’t move his head from his hands.

“What do you mean?” He asked, his voice muffled.

“You said it was your fault...” she finally looked at him again. “How?” Lyall raised his head, but didn’t meet her eyes.

“I... I said some things in front of Greyback,” he explained. “Bad things. About werewolves. Said they were... evil, and soulless. And this... this is his revenge.” His voice broke. “Hope I’m so sorry.” He stared at her despairingly. “I hurt our son.”

* * *

Remus changed after that night. Not physically, although he was of course a werewolf now, a change that they all had to get used to. But his whole personality and demeanour had changed. He was never the most outgoing child but he could be very chatty. Rambling on and on about whichever subjects he was interested in, and he loved to play outside, but now he barely said a word. He just shut himself in his room and read. All he wanted to do was read. His mother asked him what he wanted for his fifth birthday and all he said was books. She willingly obliged.

The only bonus that came out of Remus’s ordeal was that his father no longer cared about Remus identifying as a boy. Everything seemed to have been put into perspective for Lyall after the traumatic event. For starters, being a boy made Remus happy. And Lyall wanted so desperately for his child to be happy again. And secondly, Lyall clearly knew that there were much bigger problems in their life than his daughter becoming his son. He was just happy that his child was alive. And Remus was happy that he had finally been accepted as a boy, despite the circumstances that had brought about this acceptance.

Or at least, he thought he had been accepted.

It was around three months later. Remus had transformed three times now. He hated it. It scared him no end. He had to be locked in his room for the whole night and he never remembered what had happened once he’d woken up the following day. His parents tried to be as calm about it as possible. They told him they’d stay with him until he transformed, then it would just be like going to sleep and waking up the next morning.

It wasn’t though. Remus couldn’t remember details but he remembered how it felt. It was painful and lonely, and dark and angry. And what if he ended up hurting his parents? And he wouldn’t even remember hurting them... and he wouldn’t even recognise them as he hurt them... anxiety attacks became more and more frequent for him, and his parents couldn’t do much except insist that he would be okay. And all he could do was trust them.

After every transformation, his mum would buy him a book. As a sort of reward for the previous night; a reason to look forward to transforming.

On the third month, his mum bought him a book of Roman myths. He enjoyed both muggle and wizarding books alike, and he was quite keen on history. He liked the story of the twin founders of Rome: Romulus and Remus. The boys who were abandoned at birth, raised by a she-wolf and went on to found one of the biggest empires in history.

He was also fond of the name Remus.

His name hadn’t bothered him much when he was a young child, but as he grew a bit older he started to hate it. It was definitely a girl’s name and it didn’t suit him anymore. He wanted a new name.

He’d once asked his mother what he would have been called had he been born a boy.

“Well, I wanted to name you John after my father, but your dad probably would have named you Lyall. It’s common for fathers to name their son after themselves.”

Remus wanted to honour his mother’s naming decision but he didn’t think John really suited him either. And he didn’t know what his father would say if he named himself Lyall.

But Remus... Remus was nice. And he supposed it had a good connection. The mythical Remus had been raised by a wolf, and he _was_ a wolf. It fit.

He decided to broach the subject with his mother.

She was in the kitchen reading one of her muggle newspapers with her coffee. Lyall was at work.

He’d been spending more and more time at the ministry lately. Remus had once overheard his father telling his mother about trying to find a “cure” for Remus’s lycanthropy. They were all holding out hope that one day it would appear, but so far there was no sign of it.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” greeted his mother, all smiley. She tried to act as cheerful as possible around Remus, hoping it would rub off on him and she could see his smile again. His genuine smile. Not a fake one that he was sadly beginning to master.

“Morning,” he replied back. Hope stood up to make him some toast. They had a toaster of course since Hope couldn’t use magic. It was all beat up and rusty and Lyall hated it. Tutted every time he saw it being used. “How _do_ muggles live without magic?” He’d mutter.

Remus sat at the table. It certainly wasn’t unusual anymore for him to be quiet and deep in thought, but it was a surprise when he actually shared his thoughts this time.

“Mummy?” He began.

“Yes, love?” A pause. Remus was trying to find his words.

“Can I change my name?” Hope stopped buttering the now toasted bread and turned around.

“Do you _want_ to change your name?” Remus nodded.

“Dahlia’s a girl’s name. I don’t like it anymore.”

“Well, what would you want to change it to?” Remus looked down. For some reason he felt a bit embarrassed.

“I like Remus,” he said eventually.

“Remus?... Remus...” She tried it out. “It’s nice.” Remus smiled. “You definitely want to be calledRemus instead of Dahlia?” Remus nodded again. “Do you want your father to call you Remus too?” Hope was worried about what her husband would say. So far he’d finally accepted the pronoun change, but a name change too? Remus, however, shook his head.

“Not yet. Just you.”

* * *

Lyall returned home from work one day, clearly tense. Hope had asked what was wrong and all he had replied with was that his day had been very stressful. Remus was still up, reading a book on the sofa. Normally his father would have told him to go to bed, but his parents had been very lenient with him since the attack.

“What’re you reading there, Dahlia?” Was all his father asked, sitting in the adjacent armchair.

“Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them,” Remus replied, not taking his eyes off the page.

“Ah, good choice. Newt Scamander’s a great bloke. Met him once, years ago. Bit odd, but there wasn’t a single thing he didn’t know about magical creatures.”

“Like you?”

“Oh I just specialise in things like boggarts and poltergeists. Nothing compared to Scamander.” Hope walked into the room then, fiddling about with an apron and clearly not focusing.

“It’s getting late, Remus, you should go to bed soon,” she glanced at her son, looked back at the apron and then froze, realising what she had said. Remus didn’t move either, just stared at her.

Lyall looked back and forth between the two of them, then turned to his wife.

“Who’s Remus?” He asked. Hope looked awkward.

“No one, I was just... thinking of someone called Remus and it slipped out.”

“Which someone called Remus?”

“You know... that muggle story. Romulus and Remus. Founders of Rome. Dahlia was reading it and it... it popped into my head.” Lyall searched their faces. Fear was written all over both of them, clearly showing that they had been caught out. And Lyall wasn’t an easy man to fool.

“You’re calling her Remus now aren’t you?” Remus flinched as his father reverted back to calling him “she”. Hope didn’t know how to reply right away, wanting to contradict him but not wanting to argue about the name Dahlia in front of Remus. However, she knew which option would be more beneficial to her son. But she was too late. Her consequential silence was enough to confirm Lyall’s accusation. He sighed heavily. “I don’t have time for this,” he said.

“I don’t see what the problem is, it’s just a name-”

“Of course it’s not just a name!” He stood up, his voice already growing louder and Hope could sense an argument.

“Remus, go to your room,” she instructed, and Remus wasted no time in getting out of there. But he couldn’t help himself from stopping at the top of the staircase and listening through the banister.

“So this is really a thing now?” Interrogated his father.

“I thought you had accepted it.”

“How can I accept it?! I don’t even know what this is! Why does she feel this way?! I was humouring her to keep her happy, because she’s gone through something no child should have to go through. But this is going too far now and you’re not thinking of the consequences.”

“No, you aren’t! Maybe if you actually did some research-”

“Did some research?! On a random phase our kid is going through?! How about researching how to cure her of lycanthropy?! To stop her transforming every month, to stop her being ousted from society and actually give her a chance of having a future?! Because that’s what I’ve been doing every. Single. Day. And I don’t have time for this nonsense anymore!”

“It’s not nonsense.” Lyall put his head in his hands. “I’ve been doing some research, down at the library. People - muggles- are doing this new study on people like Remus-” Lyall raised his head to the ceiling at the sound of Remus’s new name, as if petitioning some sort of deity, but Hope was determined to continue. “It’s an actual thing, it’s not a phase. We need to take this seriously, just as serious as his lycanthropy because this is his future.

“He doesn’t have a future... .” The room went quiet. Hope stared at him, aghast. Remus meanwhile felt his chest constrict. Too many thoughts were whirling around his head and he felt overwhelmed and exhausted.

“How could you say that?” Breathed Hope.

“We need to face facts, Hope. She won’t be allowed to go to Hogwarts, which means she won’t get the qualifications she needs to work, and even if she does get the qualifications she needs, she won’t even be allowed to _get_ a job.”

“Then we raise him the muggle way. He can go to a muggle secondary school and get a muggle job and you can teach him magic when he’s seventeen.”

“The ministry won’t allow us to send him to a muggle school. It’s too much of a risk to the Statute of Secrecy. He’ll be at an age when his magic is becoming powerful, but he won’t be able to control it.”

“So what is the Ministry expecting us to do?”

“I suppose... hide him away until he’s old enough to control his magic.” Hope stared at him, her gaze unfaltering.

“So we’re supposed to cut him off from the rest of the world, muggle and wizard alike, until he’s old enough to control his magic. And then he can’t even get a job? Get a house? Get married?” Lyall nodded sadly. “All because he was attacked by a werewolf as an innocent child and couldn’t do anything about it?” Lyall nodded again. “Then there’s something seriously fucked up about the wizarding world,” concluded Hope. Lyall didn’t say anything. Remus felt a vague sense of dread. He’d never heard his mother swear before, so he knew the atmosphere had gone deadly serious.

“You’re right,” replied Lyall softly. Any anger towards his wife that he’d had had immediately dissipated. “You’re right and I... I wish I could change things.”

“Things won’t change as long as people still think that all werewolves are nothing but soulless and evil creatures.” Lyall flinched. Her shot had gone home, and Hope knew it. They stayed in silence for a moment, Hope just staring at him. He wished she would stop staring. Eventually, her gaze fell. “I’m going to bed,” she stated. She left the living room, and Remus- who had been lost in thought- was quickly shaken back into reality. He ran back to his own bedroom before his mother could catch him spying and dived under the covers, waiting for his mum to open the door to check on him.

Lyall was left standing by the fireplace, the last embers burning out within it. He sunk into his armchair, letting the entire conversation wash over him. He felt terrible, and all he desperately wanted was for things to go back to normal.

He stayed in his chair all night, and fell asleep at around twelve pm. Hope never bothered to check on him.


	3. Future

The following evening, Lyall came home from work to find Hope sitting at the dining room table trawling through books. Lyall picked one up. It was all cartoony, with numbers on the front.

“What’s all this?” He asked.

“Muggle schoolbooks,” Hope replied, not looking up from her reading. She didn’t catch Lyall’s look of confusion, but she sensed it, and continued to explain. “If he can’t go to Hogwarts and he can’t learn magic until he’s seventeen, then I’m homeschooling him the muggle way.”

“Really?”

“I’ve got it all planned out. Primary school to Secondary school.”

“So he’s not going to know anything about the wizarding world?”

“Of course he is. He’ll have lessons on the wizarding world- you can teach him. But he has to focus on his muggle studies more.” She finally looked up at her husband. “His only chance now of a good future is getting a job in the muggle world, and he can’t do that without a muggle education.”

“Does Dahlia know about this?”

“ _Remus_ is well aware of all of this. We’ve talked it through and he agrees. He wants to do this.” Lyall sighed, placed his palms on the table and leant over.

“We never finished our conversation from yesterday.” He kept his voice low and calm.

“There’s nothing to finish-”

“For Merlin’s sake, Hope, just stop being so bloody obtuse for one second and listen to me. This... _Remus_ thing can’t go on any longer. Do you think people like that are accepted? In the muggle world too. How’s she supposed to get a job in your precious muggle world if no one accepts her, hm? You ever thought about that?”

“Have you ever thought about the fact that there’s _nothing we can do_. Just like there’s nothing we can do about his lycanthropy. Our only option is to accept this-”

“How can I accept this? Accept that we’ve lost our daughter?”

“We have to accept that we never had a daughter in the first place.” Lyall simply sighed, exasperated. “I’m not letting him get hurt anymore, and _you_ are hurting him.” She looked at him, almost pleadingly. “Remember that night? The night he was attacked and we were sitting in the living room? You called him our _son_.”

“I was stressed. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“I think you were. I think you know deep down that he’s your son, but your determination to deny it is affecting all of us. You’re affecting Remus, and you’re affecting our marriage.” Hope gathered up the schoolbooks and stood up. “He’s starting his studies tomorrow.” Lyall said nothing. But when she was halfway up the stairs he added:

“He’s only five. Not even six yet. What if this is just a phase?”

“Well... then we support him.”

* * *

Life became routine for the Lupins. Lyall went to work everyday, still trying in vain to find a cure for Remus’s lycanthropy. Hope took it upon herself to become Remus’s teacher. She found schoolbooks for him to work through and sat with him at the dining table for a few hours each day. He learnt maths and English, and at his special request, history. He learnt both muggle and wizarding history. His mother started him off with some simple historical subjects. The erupting volcano of Pompeii, the Battle of Hastings in 1066, the Vikings and the Romans. She said they were the sort of things that she was taught during primary school. His father taught him wizarding history. The Statute of Secrecy, wizarding relations with muggles and the misconception that witches in Britain were burnt at the stake in the Middle Ages, when in reality they were hanged, or drowned.

“For God’s sake, Lyall he’s only six,” reprimanded Hope.

“It doesn’t happen anymore. And besides, real witches would have survived easily. As long as they had their wands of course.” Lyall was a very smart man. He never dumbed down or censored his explanations. Hope said it was too heavy for Remus, but Remus didn’t mind. It was a little hard to follow at times, but Lyall was perfectly fine with Remus interrupting to ask for a simpler explanation.

His father was still holding on to some form of his denial over Remus being a boy, but he hardly protested anymore, and to his son’s delight he’d finally started using the name Remus.

As for his monthly transformations, Remus had now grown used to them. He still hated them of course, and they were still a cause of great pain and anxiety, but they were no longer his main focus, since there was nothing he could do about them. He could worry all he wanted, but at the end of the day there was no escape from the full moon. So all he could do was treat them as just another inconvenient part of life. Another thing he had to deal with. His mother gave him a four day break from doing schoolwork at the end of each month. Two days before he transformed and two days after, so he could rest. Things seemed to be going okay. Remus was less sad all the time, except when he thought about missing out on going to Hogwarts when he was older. So he tried not to think about it.

He wasn’t allowed out of the house much. His parents were too worried for his safety, so they kept him inside. They didn’t want the neighbours to notice his scars and start talking. Remus didn’t mind too much. For starters, he hated people looking at his scars, which were still very visible. He’d once gone into a muggle town with his mother, and adults and children alike stared at him in slight shock. The adults would try and pretend they weren’t looking, while children would stare right at him until they were nudged by a parent and given a stern warning about “rudeness”. Remus kept his head down as he walked.

Unfortunately, it was only a matter of time before Remus’s reclusiveness and the family’s strange behaviour sparked gossip amongst the neighbours. His father came home one day looking very tense. He explained to Hope that a neighbour had stopped him and asked if Dahlia was okay, feeling like they hadn’t seen her in years. He replied back saying that Dahlia was fine and that her mother was homeschooling her, so she was inside most of the day. The neighbour didn’t seem to accept the answer and warned Lyall that people were starting to talk.

“She said one neighbour had even seen Remus’s scars,” Lyall concluded.

“So what do we do?” Asked Hope.

“Well, the longer we stay here, the more likely Remus will be found out. It’s not safe anymore.”

“You mean we have to move?”

“It was always inevitable, Hope. We need to go somewhere secluded,” his face brightened ever so slightly. “Perhaps we could go up to Wales. You’d like to go back to Wales wouldn’t you? And there’s certainly a lot of country up there. No neighbours for miles.” Hope looked reluctant.

“I hate the idea of cutting us all off from the rest of the world. Besides, this is our home. Remus was born here.”

“I know. But we don’t have a choice. It’s for his own safety.” Hope of course couldn’t argue with that, so reluctantly she agreed to think about moving.

* * *

Two months later, and the three of them were walking through the front door of their new house. It was an averaged-sized place, three bedrooms and a sizeable garden. But what attracted them to it was that it was located deep in the countryside. There was no one around as far as the eye could see and they had to drive to the nearest town. Remus was safe at least, and that’s what mattered.

He was nearly eight years old now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quite a short chapter this time, but the next one should be longer! Also thank you to NeverWritesAnything for pointing out a few plot holes which I managed to change.


	4. Visitor

When Remus was eleven, the family received a visitor. In the two years since they’d moved, they’d only seen a handful of visitors, mainly Ministry officials who had business with Lyall. Remus never met up with other children. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a friend. He was certainly very lonely. And he didn’t imagine that the loneliness would ever go away, what with no school to go to, no neighbours to talk to and no siblings to play with. All he had were his parents, and as much as he loved them, he found himself getting unreasonably wound up by them on a regular basis. He’d simply been cooped up with them for too long.

Their new house was nice, if not isolating. Remus’s bedroom was a good size, and there was certainly no lack of outside space. And at least with no neighbours around, Remus was much more free to play outdoors whenever he wanted to without worrying about people seeing him and the scars on his face. However, he still found himself missing his old home. It had been an old house, almost ancient, so there had been plenty of secret hiding places and places to explore. Their new house on the other hand, while old, was nowhere near old enough to have any interesting secrets to discover. So Remus spent most of his time bored in his room, reading.

His mother was worried about his social skills. His father said that Remus interacting with a bunch of kids who made fun of his scars would do his social skills no favour.

Somehow this turned into an argument.

Remus was sick of listening to arguing. And he seemed to be the root cause of all of them, so along with the oppressing loneliness, Remus also had to deal with a never-ending cycle of guilt. And all he wanted to do was go to Hogwarts.

It was Friday when the doorbell rang so his father was at home. His mother was with Lyall in the living room and Remus was upstairs, doing some unfinished schoolwork. He was still being homeschooled, and his workload grew every year as he got older. Along with maths, English and history, he was now doing subjects such as science and geography. He didn’t like those subjects as much. 

Remus went to the landing when he heard the door. He suspected it was another Ministry official, and therefore someone boring, but he still liked to see another human being who wasn’t his mum or his dad, and spy on them, listening in to any conversations.

But it wasn’t a Ministry official. Or at least, if it was, it was the oddest looking Ministry official that Remus had ever seen. The man was very tall, at least a foot taller than his father, and he had a long silvery beard that went right down to his belt. He was dressed all in mauve, and his hat was very pointy. Remus couldn’t help but notice that he looked exactly like the wizards described in Muggle fairytales that his mother would read to him. But the man also looked familiar.

For some reason, Lyall and Hope tried to stop the man from entering the house. Remus didn’t know why. They didn’t even know the man. But then it hit him. Why the man looked familiar. Remus quickly ran to his bedroom, rummaged through a draw full of chocolate frog cards, picked one out and rushed back to his spot at the top of the stairs. He stared at the card, and then at the man, who was still being denied access to the house. Yes, thought Remus, it was definitely him. Professor Albus Dumbledore. Headmaster of Hogwarts. Remus’s heart jumped into his throat and he decided to brave it...

He stood up and padded downstairs towards the doorway. Dumbledore spotted him first.

“Hello,” Dumbledore greeted softly. Lyall and Hope turned to Remus.

“Remus, darling, go upstairs please,” his mother quickly ordered, but Dumbledore cut her off.

“Actually it’s Remus I’d like to talk to.” Remus and Hope looked at the man in confusion, but Lyall gave him a rather different look: a mix of surprise and suspicion.

“Why do you want to speak to Dahlia?” Lyall interjected. Remus’s hear plummeted. This man didn’t know him. On first glance he would have assumed Remus was a boy, and he was using his name- his real name- without knowing his old name. Why did his father have to go and screw it up?

Lyall had finally got the hang of using the name Remus. He’d eventually given in, and while he slipped up a lot, he did correct himself. Unless he was angry. And he hadn’t referred to Remus as a “she” for at least a year now.

But was he only going to do that behind closed doors, where no one except Remus and Hope could hear? And now that this man had turned up, who was essentially a stranger, Lyall was just going to act like he still had a daughter?

But Dumbledore just looked at him smoothly.

”I thought his name was Remus now.” Remus’s heart, which had travelled an entire journey around his body in less than a few minutes, jumped back into place. _Now_? Did Dumbledore _know_? How did he know?

But he used the right pronouns. He knew and he still used the right name and pronouns. Remus looked at him warmly. Lyall started to stutter.

”W-well, I mean... well, um-” Hope rolled her eyes before interrupting.

”Yes it is,” she affirmed. “Why do you want to talk to him?”

”I want to give him a letter.” The room went quiet. Dumbledore walked over to Remus- Lyall and Hope having given up their mission to keep the Professor out of the house- and handed the boy an envelope. Remus barely hesitated before taking it and reading the address on the front:

  
**Mr R. Lupin  
**

**House Number 6, Masters Grove**

**Gwynedd, Wales**

Mr R. Lupin. _Mister_. He almost wanted to cry. His acceptance letter into Hogwarts. His acceptance into the Wizarding world. And it was addressed to a Mister Remus Lupin.

His father spoke up.

”I don’t understand... I’m sorry, Professor, but you must not be aware of our situation-”

”I assure you, Mr Lupin that I am perfectly aware of the situation. And I am telling you that I want your son to attend my school.”

”B-but... _how_?”

“He only transforms twelve times a year. For the other three hundred and fifty three days he is a completely normal human being. I do not think it fair, therefore, to deny him the proper education that he needs, just for those twelve nights. There are places within the Hogwarts and Hogsmeade grounds that he can safely transform in. Away from any living creature but still under my watch. Both he and everyone will be safe and no one need know of his condition.” Remus thought it sounded perfectly reasonable, and he was so desperate to go to Hogwarts. He looked eagerly at his parents, but they still appeared hesitant.

”If it gets out... that he’s a werewolf,” began his father. “... Professor, I’m sorry. It’s too dangerous.” Remus deflated. He knew it. He knew he shouldn’t have got his hopes up. But Dumbledore continued.

”I shall do everything in my power to ensure that he is safe. Just as safe he would be at home, if not more. Because at least he’ll be able to learn how to control his magic.” Lyall thought about it, but Hope looked worried.

”Professor, sir... Remus being a werewolf isn’t the only problem. He... well, I take it you already know, but...” She glanced at her son. “He wasn’t born a boy.”

”I am a boy though,” piped up Remus. The first words he’d spoken to Dumbledore.

”Yes,” continued his mother. “But... if the other children find out... And, will he be treated like a boy? Can he use the boy dormitories? Or the bathrooms?” Lyall looked like he wanted to interject. Remus hoped he wouldn’t. Thankfully, Dumbledore spoke before Lyall had a chance.

”I don’t see why not. Hogwarts is a home for everyone. And if that’s what Remus needs for Hogwarts to feel like his home, then by all means.” Remus couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so happy, but he was terrified that something would go wrong. In fact he was sure it would go wrong. It was all too good to be true.

* * *

Dumbledore had allowed Lyall and Hope to spend some time thinking everything over before making their decision. They discussed their concerns in low whispers, setting Remus on edge. He didn’t like the thought that they could barge into his room at any moment and announce that they weren’t allowing him to go to Hogwarts after all. Every time they brought up the subject with him, he enthusiastically insisted that he wanted to go and assured them that he’d fine.

However, he had his own reservations of course. He didn’t know for sure he’d fine. He had two big secrets that he simply didn’t know if he could keep for the next seven years, no matter what Dumbledore said. And the thought of all those students... Would they like him? Would they bully him? Would they make fun of his scars? And what would they do if they found out that he was actually born a girl?

He didn’t admit these anxieties to his parents. They were so close to agreeing to letting him go that Remus didn’t want to jeopardise it. So as usual, he suppressed his feelings and kept quiet.

Eventually, nearly two weeks after Dumbledore’s visit, his parents sat Remus down at the dining table and told him that after long thought, they had decided to let him go to Hogwarts. Remus grinned and clapped his hands in excitement. His parents allowed him to celebrate for a second before continuing.

“But... we have a lot to discuss,” said his father. Remus calmed down, but didn’t respond. He simply indicated that he was listening. His parents launched straight into a speech about how Remus had to make sure that no one found out about his lycanthropy; that he let no one spot him leaving the castle to transform, and that if anyone were to ask, he needed to lie about where he got his scars.

But overall, his parents were more focused on Remus’s male identity. They reiterated what had all been on their minds for the past year or so.

”You’re at an age where you could start puberty at any moment,” began his mother. Remus always tried to avoid this conversation. Not only did he find it gross from a pre-teen perspective, but he also didn’t want to think about it. He hated the thought of his body changing to match the wrong gender, of the thought of his chest no longer being flat, and he couldn’t even describe how much he dreaded getting his period. “But we have to be prepared. So we’ll have to pack some things that... you may not want.”

Said things happened to be a various selection of period products. His mother had gone out to buy them and she laid them out on his bed. It affected him more than he’d wanted it to, seeing them there. He found himself fighting back tears. He didn’t want them on his bed, he didn’t want them in his trunk, he didn’t want them to be a constant reminder that he wasn’t what he wanted to be.

His mum said that he only needed to take one pack. It was only “just in case”. If anything happened, he could owl them for more. Remus stuffed the pack right at the bottom of his trunk, and vowed to hide it somewhere as soon as he got to Hogwarts. Somewhere out of sight and out of mind. His mother also made him pack some sports bras “just in case”, which he also vowed to hide.

All in all, the build up to Hogwarts just made Remus feel more and more depressed as each day passed until September 1st. Why couldn’t he just be normal? He thought, lying on his bed one night. He just wanted a normal school experience without having to deal with his stupid body and his stupid lycanthropy. Having to hide so much, and having to transform every single month for the rest of his life. Every. Single. Bloody. Month. As well as going through the wrong damn puberty. It was all wrong. Everything was wrong.

Remus bit into his pillow. The whole situation, every overwhelming emotion pressing against his chest, just made him want to scream.

His only distraction was when they went to Diagon Alley.

At first, the whole place made Remus feel very nervous. He’d never seen this many people, let alone be right among them. He’d been to Diagon Alley before of course, but never before the start of term. The place was packed with kids his age and older, running around from shop to shop, pressing their palms against the windows, leaving foggy marks where their breath touched the glass, until the owners came out to tell them to “either buy something or bugger off” in a tone light-hearted enough to make the kids run away giggling.

The first few shops they went into were to pick up the list of supplies such as books and cauldrons. Flourish & Blotts was definitely Remus’s favourite shop in Diagon Alley. He loved the old shelves filled with even older books, and the winding staircase leading to the second floor had a great hiding place underneath it where he could sit for hours reading, time passing him by as if it ceased to exist the second he stepped into the shop.

However, on this specific day he was much more focused on other places. “Can we go to Ollivander’s now?” He asked at regular intervals, to the same reply of “not now. We’ll go at the end.” Remus had spent most of his life thinking that he’d never get to go to Ollivander’s, never get to choose his wand when he was eleven, so now that he actually had the opportunity, he was feeling more than a little impatient.

They skipped Madame Malkin’s robe shop. Remus didn’t want to be measured so closely, and his parents agreed that it was a risk. So his mother had measured him herself and had picked up his robes a few days previously. He knew they’d be boy robes of course but he was still very excited to see them and try them on. The dark grey slacks and the light grey pullover jumper, and the white button-up shirt underneath, all fit perfectly and Remus was reluctant to take it off. It suited him.

Their next shop was the Menagerie, the loudest shop on the street. Screeching owls and mewling cats filled their ears as they got closer. His parents had bickered over which animal Remus should choose. They had ruled out toad from the beginning; no one wanted a toad. But his mother loved cats and she had encouraged Remus to choose a nice one, a kitten perhaps. But his father insisted that owls were much more useful. Besides, their own owl, Solomon, was so old that he spent most of his days sleeping, so his father said it would be good to have a younger, more lively owl around the place. Remus didn’t know who to agree with, so he decided to just see which animal he liked the best when he entered the shop.

“Look how sweet this kitty is,” said his mother from the left side of the shop where the majority of the cats were. She was stroking the ears of a little black cat, still a kitten, which was purring loudly at her touch. Remus went over and scratched it gently under the chin. 

“It’s cute,” he said, smiling. His dad on the other hand was inspecting the owls on the other side of the shop.

“Remus,” he called. Remus joined him. “Look at this fella. Good size. Great feathers.” He was pointing at a rather large tawny owl which, in Remus’s opinion, looked quite fierce.

“He’s a bit big, dad.”

“Well he can certainly carry your mail.” Remus’s gaze wandered over to a much smaller owl, asleep at the moment. It was light brown in colour, with darker brown and white patches all over its coat. 

“That one’s nice,” said Remus. His dad looked at the owl.

“She’s asleep.”

“So?”

“You don’t want an owl who sleeps all day, we’ve already got one of those.”

“How do you know she’s a girl?” Lyall raised an eyebrow.

“It says so right there.” He pointed at a small sign on the owl’s cage that Remus had previously missed:

 _  
“Young female Barred Owl,”_ the sign read, in rather scrawly handwriting.

  
“I like her,” Remus concluded. Hope had joined them by now. “What do you think, mum?” Hope looked at the owl as well.

“She’s cute. But are you sure you don’t want a cat? I asked the shopkeeper and she said that they have some kittens round the back. Lovely little things. Very fluffy.”

“No, thanks. I’d rather have an owl.” If Remus was being honest, he wanted to choose an animal that boys were more likely to get, and he thought that more boys chose owls than cats. Cats were more of a girl’s choice, and he didn’t want anyone to call him a girl for bringing a kitten to school. Besides, he’d already grown quite fond of the little brown owl.

“Alright then,” conceded his mother. Lyall looked pleased.

“I’ll go pay for her,” he said, taking the cage down from where it was hanging and handing it to Remus. “You think of a name for her.” The movement shook the owl awake and she stared at Remus sleepily with her dark round eyes.

“Hello,” said Remus. The owl hooted softly. “I think I’ll call you... Arianrhod.”

* * *

At long last, Remus and his parents- arms full with school supplies and the cage of a very sleepy owl- stood outside Ollivander’s. Remus was nervous. It looked dark inside, and inexplicably empty. Lyall nudged him forward.

“Go on,” he encouraged. Remus opened the door. A bell tinkled from somewhere within the shop. Remus stepped near the counter, his parents behind him.

“Hello?” He called. A man suddenly appeared, silently, as if he’d popped out of the ground.

“Hello, young man.” _Young man_. Remus smiled. “I take it you’re here for a wand.” The man had piercing blue eyes, almost watery, and his voice was deep, captivating, seemingly hypnotic.

”Um... yes.” Ollivander nodded and retreated into an aisle, disappearing among the shelves of wands. He reappeared a second later holding a rectangular-shaped box. He opened it, picked up the wand from within, and handed it to Remus.

”Try this one,” he offered. “Holly and Unicorn hair. Eleven inches.” Remus held it in his hand, flicked it, and jumped back as the pile of wand boxes on the counter top flew off. Ollivander took the wand away and handed him another.

”Chestnut and Phoenix feather. Ten inches.” Remus had barely raised the wand before Ollivander had snatched it back. “No, not that one...” he muttered under his breath. “This one.” He handed another wand to Remus, who only held it for a second before Ollivander had taken it back and started searching for another one. 

Remus went through another three wands, each instance playing out the same way. Ollivander would hand him a wand and then grab it back almost as soon as Remus had taken it. Lyall had once told him about the wands. It was immediately obvious when the wand was right for you. You barely had to touch it to know. So Ollivander’s erratic behaviour at least made a bit of sense to him. It was no less disorientating though.

Eventually, Ollivander handed him another wand.

”How about this one. Ten and a quarter inches. Cypress and Unicorn hair.” Remus took it, and almost immediately he felt a warmthness spread through his fingers. Shiny, silver sparks fizzled gently around the tip of the wand. It looked very pretty. Ollivander smiled. “At last, eh? It seems that you have finally been chosen.” At Remus’s confused look, Ollivander elaborated. “The wand chooses the wizard. Such has always been the case. Your wand has chosen you.” He handed the now sealed box back to Remus. “Treat it well.” 

“Thank you,” replied Remus, still vaguely hypnotised by this mysterious man.

His parents, who had been sitting quietly near the door, walked up to the counter to complete the transaction, and finally, after what felt like much longer than it had actually been, they were able to leave the dark shop and return into the sunshine filled street outside. 

The crowds were starting to filter out as the Sun rose higher into the sky, and Remus felt more optimistic than ever since these last few months. He had all his things ready for Hogwarts. He had his owl, his robes, and his wand- wrapped in the rectangular shaped box that he was holding tightly onto. And for the first time in eleven years, Remus finally felt like a proper wizard.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to my friend Dev for finding the name Arianrhod, which is the name of an owl from Welsh mythology.


	5. Sorting

They had to drive to King’s Cross, in Hope’s old _Austin Mini._ Lyall had bought it for her years ago so she could travel around the muggle way. She loved it, but Lyall always complained about it being too slow. And in this case, Remus agreed with him. The journey was long. Hours long. 5 hours to be exact, to travel all the way from Wales to London. Remus spent half the journey sleeping and the other half worrying.

As much as he was desperate to get out of his house, sleep somewhere new and meet new people, he already missed the safety and security that being at home brought him. At least he didn’t have to hide, or lie, or pretend. And he didn't have to worry about the consequences of not hiding or lying or pretending.

”What house do you think you’ll be in?” Asked Lyall, suddenly. The question felt weirdly unexpected, and Remus didn’t respond right away. They had all been so focused on the big things, the secrets, the anxieties, that they hadn’t really had a chance to discuss the normal aspects of Hogwarts. The Sorting Ceremony, the lessons, the activities, none of it had really crossed Remus’ mind, except when he was younger and he made up games of make believe, usually involving him already being at Hogwarts. In those games he’d sorted himself into Gryffindor, because that was his father’s house, and he wanted his father to be proud of him.

”Um... I don’t really mind,” replied Remus. And it was true, he didn’t mind. He’d read about all four houses and he thought that they all had good qualities.

”Well, Gryffindor’s the best of course,” continued Lyall. “But Ravenclaw’s good too. I was nearly in Ravenclaw.”

”What if I’m in neither?”

”Oh I’m sure you will be. We’re very similar you and I.” Remus took his statement as a compliment, and he felt quite proud about it. His father had never compared Remus to himself before; he usually claimed that Remus and his mother were like two Bowtruckles in the same tree.

“Don’t put pressure on him about houses, Lyall. I never did see what the big deal was. Why do they have to divide all the kids up anyway? It just creates animosity, surely.”

”Not animosity, darling. Healthy competitive spirit. Quidditch matches were a riot.”

* * *

The station was fairly busy, so they had to wait until enough people had cleared on platforms nine and ten before going through the barrier. Lyall had already warned Remus about the barrier, but that didn’t stop Remus’ natural instincts from telling him that nothing good could come from launching himself head on at a solid-looking brick wall. Lyall had suggested giving a bit of a run if he was nervous. Remus thought that that was the stupidest thing he’d ever heard. If he was nervous about slamming face first into a wall, why would he... _run_ at it?

He took it slowly. Ambled up to the barrier and pressed his trolley into the bricks. The front of the trolley disappeared. With the integrity of the barrier now confirmed, the rest of the trolley and Remus himself followed suit.

He re-appeared on the other side in a haze of steam. It cleared after a second and he could take a good look at platform nine and three quarters...

”Merlin, that’s a lot of people,” he said. His parents were behind him now.

”It’s more daunting than it looks,” encouraged Lyall. Remus didn’t think so. All he could hear was shouting and laughing and animals and parents and students. It was all very overwhelming. Hope was by his side, his father on the other.

”Come on,” Hope said. “Let’s get you on the the train.”

They fought their way through the crowd and found a fairly empty carriage near the end of the train. Remus jumped on, and his father handed him his trunk and Arianrhod’s cage, the owl hooting softly from inside.

”Do you need any help?” Asked Lyall.

”No, I’m alright, thanks.” His trunk was heavy but he didn’t think he’d do himself any favours if his parents followed him onto the train.

”Now be careful, okay,” reiterated his father.

”I know.”

”And write every day.” That was his mother. His father shook his head in amusement.

”You don’t have to write every day. Every week.”

”I will. I promise.”

”And if anything happens,” continued Lyall. “Tell Dumbledore, then tell us.”

”Yeah.”

”But don’t let anything happen. Lay low.”

”But socialise. Make friends,” said his mother.

”You’re there to learn, Remus.”

”But have fun as well.”

”You’re getting confusing now,” Remus concluded. They finally released him, though not before the exchanges of I-love-you and be-safe, and Hope embarrassingly kissing Remus on both cheeks and his forehead.

Remus dragged his trunk down the train corridor, one hand on the leather handle, the other holding onto Arianrhod’s cage, quickly stepping back as a bespectacled boy his age came charging down the corridor from the opposite direction, closely followed by his friend, a rather long-haired boy, also his age.

” ’scuse me!” Said the boy.

”Sorry!” Said his friend. Remus didn’t have time to reply before the two had disappeared off down the carriages.

Remus slid open the door of the nearest empty compartment. He had a right struggle getting his trunk onto the overhead rack. By the time he sat down he was out of breath. Arianrhod hooted indignantly. Her cage had been placed on the rack too, and she was itching to get out.

”Sorry,” said Remus, craning his neck upwards towards the rack. “Can’t let you out till we get there.” He opened up the window and searched for the faces of his parents, just as the train began to leave the station. He quickly spotted them and waved. They waved back, his mother rather frantically. They kept waving until the train went through the tunnel and they were out of sight. Remus sat back down. He stretched himself out, stood up again, and had to take his shoes off to climb onto the seat and get a book out of his trunk. He needed something to pass the time. He also got out his uniform, ready to change when they were nearing the school.

He spent the journey reading. It calmed his nerves, distracting himself with descriptions of spells, history about the castle, working out what he’d be learning that year.

No one bothered him on the journey, except for the trolley lady.

”Anything from the trolley, dear?” She asked, sliding open the compartment. His father had given him a few galleons to spend, something that Remus had tried to protest against. They weren’t very rich. But his father had insisted.

”Just some chocolate frogs, please,” replied Remus. Chocolate Frogs were his favourite. He was able to buy quite a few for just a galleon.

The only other person he met was a red-haired girl who was looking for her cat.

”Hi,” she greeted. “I’m Lily. You haven’t seen a cat have you? A little tabby thing. Goes by the name Tabby.”

”A tabby cat called Tabby?”

”Short for Tabitha.”

”No, sorry. Haven’t seen her.”

”Blast! She’s always wandering off.” Just then, a boy her age came up beside her.

”Come on, Lily.” He was a very skinny, pale boy with black hair that hung over his eyes like curtains.

”Hang on, Sev, I’m talking to... what’s your name?” She turned back to Remus.

”Remus,” he said, eager to share his name.

”I’m talking to Remus.” The boy- Sev- stared at him. He appeared unimpressed. He didn’t even smile.

”What happened to your face?” Was all he asked. Lily stared daggers at him.

”Severus, that’s rude.”

” ’s alright,” affirmed Remus, a little awkwardly. “I was attacked, by a dog. When I was little.”

”Heavens,” said Lily. “That must have been scary.” Remus shrugged, as if the thought never occurred to him.

“Can’t really remember it.” Severus tugged impatiently at Lily’s sleeve.

”Come on, Lily, let’s go.”

”Okay, I’m coming. But I’ve still got to find Tabby.” She followed her friend out of the compartment. “Bye!” She waved at Remus. Remus waved back. And then she was gone.

It was night time when the train arrived at Hogsmeade station. Remus departed with everyone else, straightening his tie and finding his bearings. A voice boomed across the platform

”Firs’ years over ’ere! Firs’ years this way!” Remus looked in the direction of the voice and was met by a giant of a man. He was holding up a lantern and signalling to any first years to follow him. Remus entered the crowd of eleven year olds and had a closer look at the man. He had a brown, scraggly beard, so wild and bushy that only his eyes were visible. His hands were about the size of Remus’s entire torso, and the height! The more Remus looked up at him the more his neck started to ache.

”Firs’ years follow me!” The man led them down a rocky path, in the opposite direction to the other students. “Righ’ then. Just over this rock yer gonna get yer firs’ glimpse o’ Hogwarts.” Gasps met Remus’s ears as the castle came into view. Remus, too was in awe. The place was huge and every window and tower was lit up, making the pitch black scene look like a million candles had lit up to guide them. Remus couldn’t quite believe he was actually seeing this, thinking for all those years that he’d never be standing here.

”We’re travellin’ by boat, so get into groups of four, an’ don’t touch the water. Not if you want the Giant Squid to pull you in.” A couple of children laughed, either the wizarding children who were familiar with the Giant Squid, or muggleborns who couldn’t tell if the man was joking or not.

Remus ended up in a boat with three kids he didn’t know. Two of them clearly knew each other, as they were whispering fiercely into the other’s ears. The other kid was very small and very shy looking. As the boats set off, Remus decided to try and befriend the boy.

”Hi,” he greeted. “I’m Remus. Remus Lupin.” He held his hand out. The boy took it nervously.

”Peter,” the boy replied. “Pettigrew.”

”Nice to meet you Peter Pettigrew.” The boy gave a small smile. “Do you know what house you’ll be in?” Peter shook his head.

“ ’spect I’ll be in Hufflepuff or something. Me grandad says it’s the house of duffers.”

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. Besides, Hufflepuff’s a great house. They all are I think.”

“Ain’t Slytherin the evil one? ’s’one You-Know-Who was in.”

“That’s not the house’s fault.”

“Think you’ll be in it then?”

“Nah. I’m hoping for Gryffindor. Or Ravenclaw. But I don’t mind.”

“Nah, mate. Pettigrew’s right,” interjected the other boy, who must have been listening. “Get sorted into Slytherin and you’re guaranteed to end up a dark wizard.” Remus looked at him with amused scepticism.

“If you’re not already a dark wizard, I don’t see how a House would turn you into one,” he said calmly.

“Yeah but that’s the point, innit? All the dark wizards are sorted into Slytherin, because it’s all dark magic in that house. Everyone in Slytherin is in cahoots with You-Know-Who, take my word for it.” Just then, the boats bumped gently onto the shore, and the giant man signalled them all to follow him up the grand front steps of the castle.

“Everyone alrigh’?” He checked, before opening the doors to lead them inside. The entrance Hall was huge, bigger than Remus was expecting, and standing in the middle of it was a stern looking woman with black hair scraped tightly into a bun. Square glasses framed her eyes.

“The firs’ years, Professor McGonagall,” said Hagrid. McGonagall nodded her head.

“Thank you, Hagrid,” she replied in a thick Scottish accent. Hagrid left them with the woman, and she looked at them over the lenses of her glasses.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” she began. “The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your houses will be like your family. You will have classes with your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend your free time in your House common room.

“The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose points. At the end of the year, the house cup will be awarded to the house with the most points, a great honour. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

“The Sorting ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting.” She looked at them pointedly, and Remus self-consciously smoothed his hair down and adjusted his robes. McGonagall then instructed them to follow her, and the students were led into a small and rather dark room just off where the Great Hall was.

“I will return when we are ready for you,” she said. She left them standing there in the room, looking around themselves and waiting nervously to find out what the Sorting Ceremony entailed. Peter, who was by Remus’s side, nudged him.

“D’you know how we get sorted? Me family wouldn’t tell me.”

“Neither would my dad,” replied Remus. “He just said it was some sort of test.” Remus had taken this to mean a knowledge-based test, so he had poured through his new schoolbooks to try and learn as much as he could. But he hoped that they wouldn’t be asked to duel or anything. Theories of spells from books could only get you so far.

Suddenly, Remus heard a yelp from behind him. He looked round, and spotted a translucent figure ambling through the crowd of first years, who ducked out of the way to avoid the freezing cold sensation of having a ghost walk through you.

“Good evening,” greeted the ghost. “Waiting to get sorted are you? Well, I hope to see you in Gryffindor. My old house, you know.” Remus quickly figured out that the ghost was Nearly Headless Nick, but before he could say hello, the ghost disappeared through the closed doors and Professor McGonagall reappeared a moment later.

“You may enter,” she instructed, opening the door and leading them through. They were at the front of the Great Hall. All eyes from the four long tables were fixated on them. Remus felt rather self-conscious and hung back a little so that he was safely hidden among the group of first years. McGonagall stopped halfway and went to stand by a stool which was in front of the teacher’s table. On the stool sat an old hat. Everyone seemed to be staring at it, so Remus joined in, though he was very confused. What kind of test was this? Were the test papers under the hat?

Suddenly, the seams of the hat split open into what looked like a mouth, and to Remus’s surprise, the hat began to sing:

A thousand years gone by it’s true,

You stand before me young and new.

Your destiny today will mark,

Your future lain before you stark.

As Gryffindor welcomes the bold and the brave,

Slytherin the ambitious and the cunning knave.

Hufflepuff greets the just and loyal,

Ravenclaw congratulates hard work and great toil.

And on your head I must be placed,

To decide the path that you must face.

For at Hogwarts your house shall be your home,

And whichever is picked, you mustn’t moan.

The Founders of Great determined to teach,

All students, as one, to great heights you shall reach.

And dangers you’ll battle, the unknown beware,

Your houses are here to help you prepare.

And while you are divided still, when all is said and done,

The houses shall come together, they will, ready to fight as one.

The entire Hall erupted into applause, the first years following suit, despite their plain bewilderment. McGonagall cleared her throat and stepped forward.

“When I call your name, you shall place the hat on your head and sit on the stool to be sorted.” She held out a roll of parchment and began to read.

“Alderman, William.” A blonde boy emerged from the crowd, looking very nervous to be the first one to get sorted. He sat hesitantly on the stool. McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on his head. A few moments later the hat shouted “HUFFLEPUFF!” And the Hufflepuff table erupted into applause. William smiled in faint relief as he joined his fellow Hufflepuffs. Remus was incredulous. All they had to do was try on a hat? His father had lied to him. All that time spent studying! He felt almost cheated, but the relief at not having to take a test immediately after arriving was greater than his sense of annoyance, so he spent little time thinking about and refocused on the sorting, just as “Avery, Alexander” became the first Slytherin.

“Black, Sirius.” A boy eagerly stepped up to the podium, grinning as the hat was placed onto his long, dark hair. Remus recognised him as the boy who charged past him on the train with his friend. The hat stayed still for a minute, before eventually shouting “GRYFFINDOR!” 

A murmur went around the Hall before the Gryffindor table cheered the new arrival. Remus knew why. Sirius Black; must have been related to the infamous Black family, insanely proud of their pureblood status and every one of them- as far as Remus could tell- had been in Slytherin. Remus noticed that Sirius’ grin faltered ever so slightly, and his eyes darted over to the Slytherin table. But he seemed to quickly pull himself together, and as he walked to the Gryffindor table he high-fived his glasses-wearing friend. Remus was a little nervous now in case he was sorted into Gryffindor. If Sirius was anything like his family, Remus would at once be seen as an enemy, just for being half-blood. And if he was found out to be a werewolf... and on top of that, a boy who was secretly a biological girl... he hoped sharing a dormitory with a member of the Black family wasn’t going to end up jeopardising his future at Hogwarts.

”Evans, Lily,” called McGonagall. Remus straightened slightly at the name Lily, watching the bright red hair flutter past him to the podium. The hat was placed on her head and very soon the hat yelled “GRYFFINDOR!” More cheering as Lily smiled and almost skipped over to the table. Remus wondered if she managed to find her cat.

Soon, it was Remus’s turn.

”Lupin, Remus.” Remus gulped nervously, not even stopping to enjoy the fact that Remus was listed as his name. He walked up to the stool, head down, and as the hat was placed on his head, he jumped slightly as an unfamiliar voice sounded in his ear.

”Well, well, what an interesting student we have here.” Remus realised that the voice must have belonged to the hat, and that only he could hear it. “I see a lot of Ravenclaw in you. Intelligent, very intelligent. Just like your father. But... you also have secrets. Such big secrets. Such things you’ve been through, things that would surely break a weaker person, yet you’re here against all the odds. Very impressive. And as for your house, well... I think it had better be... GRYFFINDOR!” The last word was yelled to the rest of the Hall. Remus exhaled a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding and joined the Gryffindor table as the applause died down. He couldn’t wait to tell his father that he was in Gryffindor. He sat next to Lily, Sirius across from him. Sirius held out his hand.

”Sirius Black. Nice to meet you.” Remus took it, suppressing any slight hesitance he felt.

“Remus Lupin. Nice to meet you too,” he replied amicably.

“McKinnon, Marlene” was sorted into Ravenclaw, and “Mulciber, Cassius” became the next Slytherin.

“Pettigrew, Peter,” called McGonagall, and Remus sat up to watch the small blonde boy scuttle over to the stool, looking like he’d faint with nerves. Remus couldn’t help but sympathise. The hat went right down over Peter’s ears, and the Hall hushed. Waiting.

They waited for ages. Sirius started fidgeting after a few minutes.

“Bloody hell,” he muttered. “What’s taking so long? Did the hat fall asleep or what?” Remus was resting his head on his hand. It must have been at least five minutes by now.

“Is it possible to not get sorted?” Whispered Lily to Remus. Remus thought about it.

“I’m not sure,” he whispered back. “Surely it wouldn’t be.”

Eventually, as the Hall started to buzz with murmurs and some outbursts of taunting, the seams of the hat split open and yelled “GRYFFINDOR!” The Gryffindor table clapped in response, mainly out of relief if anything. Peter walked over to the table, head bent low, but looking relieved to have bagged a place at the Gryffindor table.

“You alright?” Asked Remus, as the boy sat down next to him. Peter nodded.

“It was weird though,” he said. “The hat went quiet for ages.”

“You had us worried there, mate,” Sirius chimed in. “Thought they were gonna have to chuck you out.”

Before anyone could say anything more, McGonagall read out the next name. 

“Potter, James.” A messy-haired boy strutted up to the stool with a confidence that Remus could only dream of having. When the boy turned round to have the hat placed on his head, Remus recognised him as Sirius’s friend. Sirius grinned as the minute ticked by before the hat shouted “GRYFFINDOR!” And cheered the loudest out of anyone else. James was grinning too as he sat down next to Sirius and began introducing himself.

More and more students were sorted. The boy Remus had talked to on the boat- “Stebbins, Joseph” was sorted into Hufflepuff, and “Snape, Severus”, Lily’s friend from the train was sorted into Slytherin. He didn’t look very happy about it, but then Remus had yet to see the boy look happy about anything. Lily too looked a little disappointed, and she clapped along with the Slytherin table as he walked past.

As the last students were sorted (“Williams, Owain” and his sister “Williams, Anwen” became the next Gryffindors), the Hall grew more and more restless. Everyone wanted their dinner.

The last student, “Yaxley, Corban” was sorted into Slytherin, and at last the Hat was taken away, and McGonagall resumed her seat at the teacher’s table. A hush fell over the students as Dumbledore stood up to address the school.

“Welcome to a new term at Hogwarts,” he announced, smiling down at them all. “And welcome especially to this year’s first years. I am certain you will enjoy your stay here. But now I understand we all want to eat, so I shall not keep you waiting any longer. Let there be food!” He held out his arms, almost as if he was summoning the food himself. And perhaps he was, because all at once mounds of food appeared before their eyes. Chicken, Yorkshire puddings, roast potatoes, mashed potatoes. There were even chips. The thick, crispy kind that Remus loved. He had never seen so much food. It was hard to hold a conversation with all that choice to eat.

They tried though.

James and Sirius took over the conversation, talkative as they were, while Remus was happy to listen and chime in when needed.

“The Chudley Cannons are the best team,” James was saying, opening up an argument that he’d clearly already had with his friend, who sighed dramatically.

“The Chudley Cannons haven’t won since 1862!” exclaimed Sirius. “You couldn’t get a worse team if you tried.”

“What are the Chudley Cannons?” Asked Lily, who had been trying to talk to Anwen, but James and Sirius weren’t easy to ignore.

“It’s a Quidditch team,” replied Remus.

“Oh right. My friend told me about Quidditch... that sport you all play.”

“Only the best sport ever,” claimed James.

“I take it you’re a muggleborn,” said Remus, turning back to Lily.

“Yeah. I’m still getting used to everything. I was supposed to be going to my sister’s secondary school before I got my letter.” Remus glanced at Sirius. He looked perfectly fine at the mention of Lily’s muggleborn status, if anything he barely noticed. Remus at once relaxed. He was good at figuring out when people were hiding something, being so used to doing it himself. He would have been able to tell is Sirius was pretending to be okay with Lily so as not to cause as scene, and was later going to ambush the girl, but Sirius showed no sign of caring, and was clearly only interested in discussing Quidditch. Remus felt a sudden wave of respect for the boy, with him having to grow up in such a prejudiced family yet still was able to conduct a perfectly normal conversation with those he was supposed to be prejudiced against. Remus wondered how Sirius’s parents were going to react when they found out their son was in Gryffindor. But if Sirius was worried about it, he was doing a good job in hiding it.

“Your sister isn’t magic?” Asked James.

“No...” Lily looked sad all of a sudden, and Remus tried to divert the conversation.

“My mum’s a muggle. My dad isn’t.”

“He must have got a bit of a shock when they married,” joked Sirius.

“Not really. She pretty much takes everything in her stride.”

* * *

The feast went well in Remus’s opinion. He was already making friends and no one at the Gryffindor table had even asked him about the scars on his face. He was feeling very optimistic by the time Dumbledore stood up to mark the end of dinner.

“Ahem-” he began. “Now that we’ve all been fed I’d like to add a few more words, as well as give a few start-of-term notices.

“First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. I’d also like to remind you all that no magic is to be used in the corridors between classes.

“And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled as he flicked his wand, golden ribbons twirling out of it, rising above the tables and twisting into words.

“Everyone pick their favourite tune,” said Dumbledore. “And off we go!” And all around where Remus sat, the school began to bellow:

Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please.

Whether we be old and bald,

Or young with scabby knees.

Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff,

For now they’re bare and full of air

Dead flies and bits of fluff.

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we’ve forgot.

Just do your best, we’ll do the rest

And learn until our brains all rot.

  
From where Remus was sitting, James and Sirius were singing the loudest, standing up as if they were performing. Remus smiled at the sight, although the level of noise in the Hall was rather overwhelming to his sensitive hearing. He covered his ears and quietly joined in, picking a tune his mother sung to him, something familiar. It was quite slow though, so he had to cut himself off at the last few lines to avoid being left the last few singing.

Dumbledore conducted until the Hall fell briefly silent, and then he, along with everyone else, applauded.

“There is nothing more magical than music!” He stated. “And now, off to bed!”

The first years were herded out of the Hall by the Gryffindor prefect, who was named Amanda Haighton, and she explained the journey to the Gryffindor common room to a group of students who weren’t really listening. Remus was avidly taking in his surroundings, at the moving paintings that greeted them as they walked by to the moving staircases that his father had warned him about. Everything was moving, and rather than making him feel anxious as was usually the case, the din and bustle of the school simply made Remus feel more and more excited at being there. For the last few hours he had let go of his worries and felt... almost free. But as they got closer to the common room he felt the familiar dread that crept up into him as bedtime drew closer. Alone with his thoughts in the dark and quiet always scared him. They were always oppressive and overwhelming and exhausting, and he usually read for as long he could until he was so tired that he fell asleep without a single internal distraction, but by then the clock had usually already struck three in the morning.

The Gryffindor common room was entered through an archway, guarded by a painting of a very fat lady.

“Password?” The lady asked Amanda.

“Aeno ignis,” replied the prefect. The painting swung open and the first years followed Amanda through into the round, cosy room. A fire was burning in the grand fireplace and comfortable looking armchairs dotted the room.

“Boy’s dormitories are on your left,” informed Amanda, pointing at the foot of a thin-looking staircase on the left hand side of the room. “Girl’s are on your right.” Remus followed the rest of the boys up the stairs towards the boys dormitory. He felt slightly hesitant before the staircase. He’d read that the girls dormitory had some sort of enchantment on it, so that the stairs would turn into a slide if a boy tried to climb them. He knew the boy’s dormitory didn’t have the same thing, but all the same, he couldn’t help but think what would happen if he tried to walk up the stairs and they wouldn’t let him. That Dumbledore had lied to him, and that Hogwarts really did see him as a girl. He almost flinched when he placed his foot onto the first step.

Nothing happened. He tried the second step. And the next, and the next. Soon he was in the dormitory. He’d made it.

Feeling even more ecstatic than before he began unpacking his trunk, which had somehow been brought up to his bed. He only took his pyjamas out, not wanting to fully unpack his trunk until the rest of the boys were asleep- he still had various things to take out and hide. He also wasn’t too keen on undressing in front of them. Not yet anyway. So he undressed behind the scarlet curtains of his four poster bed and re-emerged when he was safely in his pyjama shirt and bottoms.

It took a while for the dormitory to wind down. James and Sirius were messing about, throwing pillows at each other. Owain was telling them to shut up, and Peter was hiding in his own bed. Remus decided to read until the others were safely asleep.

It was around ten o’clock when the dorm became silent. Remus stuck his head out of the curtains, the darkness of the room hitting him, though he didn’t have much trouble seeing: his senses had been heightened ever since the attack, a side affect of his lycanthropy, although he could usually use this one to his own benefit.

He rummaged around in his trunk, unpacking his clothes and books. Then he reluctantly pulled out the products his mum had packed, as well as the “just in case” sports bras. There weren’t many hiding-place options, and Remus was certainly not going to risk sneaking out on his first night at the school, so all he could do was stuff them under his mattress and hope that no one would have any reason to look there.

Once he’d done that he returned to his warm bed and lay on his back, staring at the wooden covering. He could always tell when his thoughts were going to lead him into an unfavourable direction, so he could decide whether to read or not. But for once his mind was fairly quiet. The optimism he’d gained from the Great Hall was still lingering around him and by the time the clock had struck eleven, Remus was fast asleep. Dreaming of the school days to come.


	6. First Day

Remus had always had a habit of sleeping in. He assumed it stemmed from his almost permanent exhaustion brought on by his monthly transformations and the plain anxiety that kept him up way past midnight. Waking up in the morning, therefore, was as hard as going to sleep at night. However, on his first proper day of school, Remus woke up unusually early. His mind must have subconsciously- and fretfully- ensured that there was no way he could be late. And he was rather glad he was awake before the rest of the dormitory, as it meant that he could get dressed in peace, as well as use the bathroom withought worrying about the other boys- he’d never used a boy’s bathroom before, because he’d never had to, what with having spent the majority of his life in his house, so he was slightly fearful, and embarrassed, since he couldn’t use the urinals. He decided he’d only use the bathroom when no one else was around, and hoped that there’d be no outstanding emergency to compromise this plan.

The Great Hall was sparsely filled, mainly with first and second years who were still very much trying to make a good impression and arrive early to everything, something that the older students no longer really bothered with. Remus walked to the front of the Gryffindor table where he’d sat last night. The tables were already laden with food, this time of the more breakfast sort: bacon, eggs, toast, cereal and a number of different drinks. Lily was there too, eating a slice of toast and talking to her friend Severus, who hadn’t actually sat down. As Remus approached, Severus stared at him as unsmiling as ever.

“Morning,” greeted Remus.

“Oh hi Remus!” Lily smiled, shifting over a little. “Sit down.” She patted the wooden bench with her palm. Remus obliged, then turned to Severus.

“Don’t you want to sit down?” He asked. Severus looked at him like he’d asked a stupid question.

“This isn’t my table. I’m only here to say hello to Lily.”

“You don’t have to sit at your table, Sev,” said Lily. “It’s not a rule... at least I don’t think it is.”

“It’s my first day. If I’m seen sitting at the Gryffindor table instead of the Slytherin table I’ll be a traitor.”

“A traitor? Bit harsh isn’t it? It’s just breakfast,” said Remus, who was now buttering his own slice of toast. Severus scoffed.

“You clearly don’t understand house dynamics.” Remus raised an eyebrow, but didn’t reply. Severus turned back to Lily. “I’ll see you after class.” Lily nodded in agreement, as Severus turned away and walked back to the Slytherin table.

“He’s a bit... fierce. Isn’t he?” Observed Remus once Severus was out of earshot. Lily just smiled.

“He’s not very good with people, but he’s alright once you get to know him.”

“Is that possible?”

“Yes. I did. And he’s nice to me.” Remus dropped the conversation as more students began to filter into the Hall. The next boy he saw from his dormitory was Owain, who was carrying a rather significant pile of books. Owain sat near them, near enough for conversation.

“Why do you have so many books?” Asked Lily.

“I didn’t know which one I’d need, so I brought all of them.”

“You only need Magical Theory for the first lesson,” said Remus, who had the book sitting next to him on the table. Other than that, he only had his wand. Anything else he needed he could fetch between classes, and he already had his timetable memorised, so it wouldn’t take long. Owain sighed and pulled out a book from the bottom of the pile.

“Thanks. I lost my timetable.”

Peter joined them next, walking slightly haphazardly as he struggled with his tie, nearly bumping into an oncoming student. He soon succeeded in his task and flopped down next to the three of them.

“When’s the mail getting here?” Was his first question.

“I assume when everyone’s arrived,” replied Remus. Peter scrunched up his nose as he looked around at the still rather empty Hall.

Sirius and James were the last of the first year Gryffindors to arrive. By then, the first year end of the table was buzzing with conversation. There were two other Gryffindor boys, Tobin Hyslop and Jethro Becker. Remus hadn’t really spoken to them last night, but Jethro turned out to be particularly interested in poltergeists, which Remus was able to provide valuable insight into; Jethro was very excited to hear that Remus’s father worked with poltergeists and asked endless questions about how to deal with them and which spells to use. Remus answered as best he could, although out of all the creatures Lyall studied, poltergeists had never truly struck Remus’s fancy. He simply saw them as overconfident ghosts. Tobin was quieter, and spent the duration of breakfast in front of a propped up book about Charms.

Anwen Williams, Owain’s twin sister, was sitting next to Lily and was chatting to her animatedly, and a girl sitting across from them, whom Remus remembered to be called Mary McDonald, chimed in every now and again.

Sirius and James were arguing over something when they arrived, though it seemed to be light-hearted enough. They only vaguely acknowledged the others, and Remus was too engrossed in another conversation with Owain to take much notice of them. They sat down just as the post arrived.

Owls of all shapes and sizes flocked into the Hall through a window near the ceiling, carrying letters and parcels in their talons or beaks. The sky was a flurry of muted colours and fluttering wings. Remus kept an eye out for his family’s old owl, who wasn’t hard to miss, being of the very large Long-Eared species. He eventually caught sight of him, and was pleased to see that he was carrying quite a bundle: two letters and a parcel. The owl dropped them in front of him and resumed his flight out of the castle with the rest of the owls.

Remus opened the parcel first, feeling the curious eyes of his classmates watch him as they opened their own mail. The parcel contained a various selection of sweets, both muggle and wizarding. Peter was fairly interested.

“Are these real?” He asked, picking up a red Sugar Mice. Remus chuckled.

“Course not. It’s muggle, isn’t it? It’s just sugar.” Remus knew he should save the goodies. They were only a one-off treat, after all. His mother didn’t like him eating sugar at the best of times. But he couldn’t help but open one of the Chocolate Frogs... and the little packet of Malteasers. He shared them with the others.

The first letter was from his mother. He knew so immediately, not by the handwriting, but by the fact that it was in Welsh. He smiled at that, guessing that that was her way to make him feel less homesick. He showed it to Owain, who looked happily surprised.

The other letter was, unexpectedly, from Dumbledore. Remus hid this one from the others. The man had requested to see him at lunchtime in his office and informed him that the password was Cauldron Cakes. He didn’t say anything else, though Remus could guess at at least one of the topics that Dumbledore was keen to talk to him about.

Remus finished his breakfast and had just enough time to return to his dorm and stash the remaining contents of his parent’s parcel before heading to class. The first lesson was Magical Theory with Professor Whittaker, a stout lady somewhere in her late forties at least, who carried an exceptionally long wand.

Remus didn’t have too much trouble finding the class, unlike Peter, who Remus met down one of the corridors going in the complete opposite direction, so Remus let him tag along and they made it there within five minutes of the start of the lesson.

Professor Whittaker was rather strict, Remus discovered, but she seemed to go from nought to a hundred very quickly. When the class was behaving she was as nice as pumpkin pie, smiling at the students and willingly offering an explanation when a student struggled to follow along with the text. But when she turned around and caught sight of James Potter clearly not concentrating- his head was turned to the side and he was vaguely leaning backwards and forwards in his chair- she waved her wand and abruptly brought the front of his chair crashing down, almost causing his head to bang onto the tabletop. Sirius laughed louder than anyone.

The next lesson was transfiguration, and Remus heard James saying that he was looking forward to this one. They shared this class with the Slytherins, so Lily was picked up by Severus outside the Magical Theory classroom, and the two walked together. Remus had to go back upstairs to fetch his copy of _A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration_.

Professor McGonagall taught this class, the stern-looking woman they’d all met last night. Unlike Whittaker, she was consistently strict, which wasn’t great, but at least you knew where you stood with her.

The majority of the lesson was spent with McGonagall explaining the basics of transfiguration; the theory, the history, and some of the wand movements they’d be using. Once again James was reprimanded for drifting off and not listening. But finally, in the last ten minutes of the lesson, McGonagall permitted them to attempt turning a toothpick into a needle. It was small stuff, but the class was excited nonetheless. This was the first time they were permitted to use magic.

Soon the room was filled with the sounds of incantations as the students waved their wands over lifeless matchsticks. A few students managed to succeed in their endeavour, judging by the occasional cheer, and praise from McGonagall. Amazingly, one of those students was James, who was in fact the first to obtain a needle from his matchstick. The others were very impressed, and James was by no means an example of humility: he soaked up the admiration with his signature cocky grin.

Remus managed to achieve the task after quite a few tries.

“Well done, Mr Lupin,” observed McGonagall, making Remus smile for more than one reason. Peter on the other hand achieved little more than moving his matchstick an inch to the left, but since this was still more than what some students had managed, McGonagall advised him against being disheartened.

Very soon, McGonagall began to dismiss the class, praising their work, advising them to practice, and- to the annoyance of the class- assigning them homework. They had to write a foot long essay on Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration.

A few more lessons passed, with no noteable events apart from the incredible boredom ofHistory of Magic. Remus hoped the class was going to be quite interesting, especially when he found out the teacher was a ghost, but even he- lover of history- struggled to keep his gaze from wandering out of the window and his thoughts turning to anything other than the properties of the earliest wands. He looked over his shoulder to where James was sitting. The boy had clearly given up altogether and appeared to be asleep. Remus stifled a laugh as Sirius began to balance all sorts of objects on his friend: a quill, a roll of parchment, an ink pot, his wand... others had noticed and were silently encouraging him, passing him things under the desk to balance, much more entertained by this as they were by anything Professor Binns was droning on about. Incidentally, Professor Binns hadn’t noticed a thing.

When the class ended, Remus heard giggles from behind. The sounds of chairs scraping and students rushing to leave had caused James to jerk awake, and everything that Sirius had managed to pile on top of him- which turned out to be a rather impressive total of fifteen items Sirius later informed them- had tipped over onto the floor, and James had just sat there looking utterly confused, while Sirius roared with laughter.

Lunch arrived, and Remus had something quick- a sausage roll and a sip of pumpkin juice- and told Lily he was going to the library after she questioned why he was excusing himself so soon.

He struggled to find Dumbledore’s office and ended up having to ask a passing ghost for directions. The directions were eventually correct but they somehow took him all around the castle, and put him off from asking anything from a ghost again.

Finally, he found himself stood in front of a huge bronze statue of a griffin. It stared at him with steely eyes. He cleared his throat.

“Um... Cauldron cakes?” He asked it with slight apprehension, but to his relief the statue clanked into motion and began to spiral around, until a staircase appeared. The staircase continued to move, so Remus hopped aboard and let it take him to the foot of a large wooden door. Remus knocked.

“Come in,” called a voice which he immediately recognised to be Dumbledore’s. Remus pushed open the door. It groaned with its own weight.

“Ah, Mr Lupin. How nice to see you.” He smiled behind his beard. The man was sitting at his desk. Remus came forward and looked around. It was a room filled with fascinating little objects, and shelves piled high with books, ancient, leather-bound books. But what was most curious were the portraits on the walls, or at least, Remus assumed they were portraits. They had all been covered up, draped over with fabric as if they were in mourning. Dumbledore seemed to read his thoughts.

“I thought it best to conduct our conversation in private. I find paintings have a tendency to gossip. Unsurprising, of course. They have little else to do.” His eyes crinkled at the sides, an indication that he was smiling. Remus was grateful. If they were going to talk about his lycanthropy, then he certainly didn’t want any nosy portraits listening in, especially not a bunch of old headmasters and headmistresses.

Dumbledore held out his hand towards a chair that stood across from him, instructing Remus to sit down. Remus obeyed.

“Would you like a ginger snap?” Offered Dumbledore, holding out a bowl of very thin, orange biscuits. “They’re muggle. I’ve found them to be quite tasty.”

“No, thank you, sir,” replied Remus politely. In truth, he actually hated ginger snaps. In fact, he wasn’t really a biscuit person at all. He was more of a chocolate person.

Dumbledore picked up one of the biscuits, snapped it cleanly in half, and dipped one of the halves into a cup of tea that sat atop a pile of papers.

“So, Mr Lupin. We have plenty to discuss.” Dumbledore popped the now tea-soaked biscuit into his mouth.

“Yes, sir.”

“Your lycanthropy, first and foremost, needs to be properly managed,” continued the man once he’d finished chewing. “As I’ve said before, there are a number of places within which you can transform safely. I suggest the Shrieking Shack. Are you familiar with it?” Remus nodded.

“A little. It’s near Hogsmeade, isn’t it? And legend says it’s haunted.”

“Why, so is Hogwarts. Besides, I don’t imagine any ghost would be able to harm you.”

“I know,” replied Remus, not meaning to sound impertinent, but male pride took over for a second and he baulked at the subtle insinuation that he may have been scared of ghosts.

“I would also suggest the Forbidden Forest, but a number of rather dangerous creatures reside there and I fear that you are too young and do not have the experience to deal with them, even in your werewolf form. Besides, there may be some creatures that you could end up harming, such as unicorns or centaurs that could cause detriment and distress to your human form. So it is perhaps best that you steer clear of the forest altogether.

“The Shrieking Shack is joined by a tunnel that goes from the Hogwarts grounds right into the house itself. I shall show you exactly where, but I must warn you; a Whomping Willow tree was planted to hide the tunnel. You may have seen it from the entrance of the castle. But it is rather... temperamental. The best solution is to use the immobulus charm, which I suggest you practice in your free time ready for the upcoming full moon.”

“But... Sir, I can’t use magic outside of Hogwarts. How can I use the charm on the tree?”

“Well, my dear boy, as Headmaster, I have the ability to... _bend_ the rules somewhat. It shall be so that you can use magic during the full moon, but _only_ if necessary.”

“Okay...” Remus didn’t really know what else to say. “The Shrieking Shack it is then.” There was a momentary silence while Dumbledore sipped from his teacup. Remus fidgeted awkwardly. He still had a lot of questions, but he wasn’t sure if Dumbledore was going to elucidate.

“There are also things we can do to help your transition into a boy,” Dumbledore suddenly continued, a statement which felt rather out of place from their original conversation, but Remus perked up nonetheless. He hadn’t thought that any of that had crossed Dumbledore’s mind, mainly because Remus’s own mind had been trying to avoid to it, since it didn’t even know where to start. It didn’t know if there even was a start.

“Really?”

“Of course. Why, we have all sorts of magic at our disposal. I cannot see there being any difficulty in achieving this.” Remus was ecstatic. He’d assumed that he’d have to deal with his transition himself. That each day would pass by with him dreading the first signs of puberty, and when it did happen, he’d... well that was the point. He didn’t know what he’d do. His parents hadn’t known what to do either except encourage him to try and hide as much as possible. There was no information on this kind of stuff. He’d read every book he could get his hands on and he hadn’t found anything. So Dumbledore telling him that not only was Hogwarts going to help him, but that it would be easy, made him almost look forward to puberty now, especially if it was going to turn out to be the correct one.

But Dumbledore hadn’t finished.

“Madame Pomfrey, the Hogwarts matron, will be in charge of your transition. She is a trained medical healer after all, and since this is to do with your body, it’s only logical that she takes control.”

“Wait... someone else has to know?” Remus didn’t like the sound of that. He knew she was an adult and all, someone professional, but... he didn’t want anyone else to know if he could avoid it. And if his transition would be as easy as Dumbledore was making it out to be, then surely no one would ever have to know.

But apparently, it was this Madame Pompfrey who would be the reason for his easy transition. So it was now a win/lose situation.

“I’m afraid it’s unavoidable. Of course, you can choose not to tell her, but that would mean not transitioning.”

“Can’t _you_ do it? It’s just gonna be spells and that, right? You can even tell me what spells to use and I’ll do it myself!”

“Mr. Lupin, it is not that simple-”

“You just said it was!”

“Simple for Madame Pompfrey. Not for you. Not even for me. It is magic, yes. But it is also medical. I am not trained. It would be dangerous, and frankly illegal. I’m sorry.” Remus sighed.

“Fine.” Transitioning was more important. It was the most important thing he could think of. He wasn’t going to jeopardise it just to avoid telling one other person. “Does she already know?”

“Not yet. I wanted to run it by you first. Then I’d tell her, and then she would set up a meeting with your parents, so they could discuss everything that will happen moving forward, and they can give their permission.”

“I need my parent’s permission?”

“Yes, it is mandatory.”

“Oh.” That was obvious, of course. But he was worried. His mother would probably say yes, but what would his father say? He hoped that his father would be more focused on making sure no one found out that Remus had been born a girl, and surely the best way to hide that was for Remus to become completely indistinguishable from any other boy. But his father was stubborn...

He didn’t want to think about his father saying no. So he thought about something else.

“Can I meet Madame Pompfrey?” He asked. “Before you tell her anything.” He wanted to at least see if Madame Pompfrey seemed like someone he could trust.

“Of course. I shall talk to her, and owl you a time when she’s free. She will also be informed of your lycanthropy, so she can deal with any injuries that you may sustain during your transformation. In fact, it would be advisable to visit Madame Pompfrey after every transformation before you go to breakfast, so she can check you over.” Remus nodded, indicating that this sounded satisfactory, and hoping that Madame Pompfrey would be nice, considering he’d now apparently be spending a lot of time with her. “Is there anything else you wish to discuss?”

“Yes. On the full moon, how do I sneak out of Hogwarts to the tunnel?”

“The front doors will have a charm put on them. Every full moon they’ll open slightly to let you- and only you- out. They won’t open fully in order to not cause any suspicion, but you still have to be careful to not let anyone see you. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“The next morning the doors will be open again properly. You can slip back inside before breakfast. I suggest you bring a change of clothes with you. I don’t imagine you want to be heading back to your dormitory with ripped attire.”

“No, sir.” Remus stood up. “If... if I may...” Dumbledore nodded.

“Yes, we don’t want you to be late for class. You are dismissed.”

“Thank you, sir. For everything,” he added. Dumbledore’s eyes once again crinkled at the sides, a sign that was already becoming familiar to Remus. He turned around, crossed the room, and opened the door. On the other side of the door he took a moment to collect his thoughts. He had a lot to think about. Some was good, and some was bad.

He wished he’d had some more lunch. He was already starting to get hungry again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait, I’ve been focusing on quite a few writing projects at the moment so this chapter took longer than usual. Hope the wait was worth it!


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